


Vampiric Appetites

by EmetoOmo



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Comfort, Depression, Emetophilia, M/M, Overwatch AU, Sickfic, Stuffing, Vampire!Hanzo, Vampires, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-15 15:37:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16066145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmetoOmo/pseuds/EmetoOmo
Summary: Hanzo has a bad habit of sucking down blood packs, laying on the couch depressed about his state of mortality while McCree is off working. McCree returns to find Hanzo’s practically “drank” himself sick in his absence.





	Vampiric Appetites

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Story contains blood drinking, vomiting, and talks of depression. 
> 
> Inspired by this picture that Squidbiscuit did.  
> http://squidbiscuit.tumblr.com/post/178318500961/i-subscribe-to-the-vampire-hanzo-has-an-anime

“Han…”

The sound of cloth rustling sounded through the dark living room and what McCree was partially sure was a hiss met his ears as he closed the front door. He had been meticulously careful to keep the swath of sunlight that had cut the darkness like a buzz saw to a minimum, having gotten ridiculously good at in the days that had followed Hanzo’s _accident._

Truthfully, the neighbors had posed a few curious looks and questions to see the pudgy cowboy squeezing himself uncomfortably through a barely open doorway. It had taken some doing, but they seemed convinced now that they’d simply gotten a capricious kitten with a terrible case of extreme wanderlust.

McCree flipped the light on beside the couch, causing Hanzo to curse and practically fly beneath the afghan that hung over the back of it. The floor around the sofa was littered with drained blood packs, nearly the entire week’s supply that McCree had “liberated” from the local blood bank.

“I can’t tell if yer dead or depressed…” McCree sighed, moving to pull the covers from Hanzo’s head.

His normally well-maintained head of hair had become a fancy mullet from his lack of attention to it, his bangs spikey and sticking up in every which direction thanks to the blanket being removed. He scowled. “They are not mutually exclusive.”

“Neither is yer binge drinkin’. Ya’d think these here sake instead’a clean blood.” McCree said, stooping down to begin picking up the packs.

Hanzo’s stomach made a high-pitched whine longing for the true death instead of the unending bloat it was currently in as his freshly undead digestive system fought to adjust to his newest diet.

“What do you think it is going to do? Kill me?” He half-joked, though the note of disappointment in his tone was not lost on McCree, and it stung.

“It’ll get easier. We’ve been through worse.” McCree said, taking the drained packs out of the room.

Hanzo sighed, not needing his heightened senses to pick up on the mood shift. Slipping from the touch, he pressed a hand to his lips as his stomach sloshed uncomfortably, another sickening whine escaping.

McCree returned with an emptied wastebasket and set it in Hanzo’s lap, but before he could leave the room again, the vampire caught his wrist. “Jesse…”

The cowboy couldn’t stop his heart from fluttering. It was such a rarity that Hanzo used his first name, rarer still when he spoke it like a prayer. “I know, Han. I know you didn’t mean it like that.”

“It hurt still.” Hanzo acknowledged, before swallowing thickly around the deluded copper taste flooding his mouth as saliva began to pool.

“It did. But I know yer hurtin’ too,” McCree whispered. Sitting next to Hanzo, he rubbed his back with his flesh hand, his expression softening. “I know its selfish of me ta be grateful that I still have ya when ya probably sufferin’ more than if he’d killed ya, an I’m sorry for it.”

Hanzo looked at him with dark eyes that glowed a soft red in their depths, but the look in them was anything but cursed. “I am also…” _hic_. “…glad I am here for you, still.”

McCree gave his boyfriend a soft smile and tucked his hair back some. “I know,” he said softly. “Ya really overdid it with that blood, didn’t ya?”

As if in reply, his rumbling stomach pitched suddenly, and he gagged wetly. McCree chucked softly, rubbing his back more. “Go ahead. Yer not gonna bother me.”

Leaning over the trash can in his lap, Hanzo relaxed and let it come. The next lurch brought with a small gush of pink-stained saliva that he spat into the bin with a soft noise, looking far greyer than before, his skin nearly translucent he had paled so much. McCree slid his arm further around Hanzo so that he could lay his hand on his stomach, and with the next gag, he pressed in.

The flood gates open, and Hanzo pitched forward as vibrant red blood poured from his lips, splattering into the bottom of the trashcan. Almost immediately, he belched on the end of it and another thick spray followed. Habitually, he tried to draw breath no longer needed and choked, coughing and sputtering enough to let out a rather rough sounding retch and bringing up a smaller rush of blood-vomit.

“Yer alright, Han. Yer alright.” McCree said, moving his hand to keep his hair out of the way. “Jes let it happen.”

The archer would end up bringing up one final wave, this one darker than the other and half-congealed before his stomach seemed settled enough. McCree took the wastebasket and kissed Hanzo’s cheek, offering him a tissue to clean the bloody drool from his lips while McCree dumped the putrid smelling bloody puke down the garbage disposal.

As he returned, he found Hanzo laid out on the couch, miserable, but looking less transparent than before. McCree took a seat on the floor next to him, causing Hanzo to remove the man’s cowboy hat so that he could slide his fingers through his thick brown locks. “You are too good to me.”

Jesse chuckled gently and turned to lay a kiss on Hanzo’s chest. “I like ta think I’m jus good enough.”

-Fin-


End file.
